Young Love, Disillusioned Poem by james watkin
Young Love, Disillusioned
She cups her worthless hands
For the dreams she had.
Combined days in the sun
Wild-flower picking.
Ardours, flame-high, now as
Gold dust blown in.
Dreams, dreams, two fair pixies
Meadow-lain; and lost.
Confronting ideals as
What in bunny, deer
Raised alike heads up close;
To draw back, in fear.
Saturday, June 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood ,love
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8/13/2025 5:07:19 PM # 1.0.0
